


Jewels Upon Forest

by Of Elves and Wolves (Only2morrow)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Multi, Pretty much just amazing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5771491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only2morrow/pseuds/Of%20Elves%20and%20Wolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“She surely would have gone mad ten years before, had Arianna Cousland not stood at her side. Clever and resourceful, Artemis had nearly believed that the queen would simply talk them both out of the Calling, the first time they learned of their curse.”</p>
<p>Stuck within the trappings on an ancient eleven trap, Arianna, Atremis and the Inquisition Hanon must preform a sex rite in order to escape the deadly trap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written by the lovely @arrowmaker247 who owns Artemis <3 http://arrowmaker247.tumblr.com/

When Artemis Tabris was seven years of age, her mother had entered her room and told her that their family was going to starve.

It was not inevitable, for nothing in life was left to fate. That’s what Adaia Tabris believed, and it was a lesson she was quick to share with her daughter.

It began with a slippery turn past the city guards, Artemis’s childish physique just slight enough to work through a breach in the walls. The product of recent construction. Stone that had not yet been mortared.

It continued with a trip into the woods, where Adaia placed a stick in her hands and taught her to fashion a bow. A spear. A fishing rod. To collect other branches, and craft a lean-to shelter. To push aside leaves and brambles, until sweet berries fell into a basket.

To draw back bowstrings until her arms ached, and tears streaked her cheeks. Never once to drop her weapon.

This tenacity lingered long after her family’s fortunes turned prosperous. After her mother drew her last breath. After Vaughan’s were torn from his lungs. After she drank from that poisoned cup. After her first child came into this world, birthed in the midst of a Blight.

And when ten years had passed, and her execution day drew near, Artemis continued to struggle.

When she awoke that morning, her veins were grey beneath her wrist. Spider webs woven from ash.

Seconds later, they were crimson. Blood trickled from wounded knuckles, scraped raw against veridium.

“Are you alright?” Ari’s voice emerged, soft and concerned as her fingers clasped Artemis’s own, inspecting the wound.

“Fine.” Artemis assured her, wincing at her own foolishness. She was no stranger to her own temper, but the moment these ruins had turned up empty, the moment she realized that they’d taken another fruitless journey…something had snapped.

It was getting worse as of late. Rage boiled in the caverns of her heart like a witch’s cauldron. Always brimming beneath the surface, eager to lash out.

Was this the price she paid to hold the nightmares at bay? To draw that wretched song out of her head? To keep her son asleep at night, as his mother muffled screams into her pillow?

“I think Avernus mixed a blight wolf’s blood into his concoctions, this time.” Artemis growled, one set of fingers clasping a bandage, while the other sought out a potion.

Cool liquid passed her lips. The song had quieted. But something hot grew in her belly. Something that traveled high and washed over her nose. She could smell the iron in her blood. The dust that gathered at the indention of runes. Did dust even have a smell? Apparently so.

The sweat at the nape of Ari’s neck.

A smile touched her lips, unbidden.

She surely would have gone mad ten years before, had Arianna Cousland not stood at her side. Clever and resourceful, Artemis had nearly believed that the queen would simply talk them both out of the Calling, the first time they learned of their curse.

Such notions had proven false.

Just as the first time the two of them took a sip from that tainted cup, Arianna Cousland chose not to spit platitudes about their prospects. She respected Artemis far too much for that.

It was a strange thing, how a woman of noble birth would come to hold an elf so dear.

Arianna could not scarcely recall a day in which she did not thank the Maker for the woman at her side.

The elf had seen the worst of her. Accompanied her when her family was slaughtered before her eyes. Stood witness when the blood of the man responsible painted her face crimson.

But instead of bracing her with pity after Highever burned, Artemis taught her to fight. To wield a dagger, to defend herself from Howe or any other that would threaten her life.

And now, they held onto the last grains of sand in their hourglasses, chasing desperate hope across elven ruins.

“Fuck Duncan.” Artemis spat, her lips set in a hard scowl, eyes still peering around them. “Fuck his conscriptions.”

“I heartily agree.” Arianna breathed, the sweat beading on her back, “Fuck Duncan.”

Before they could take another step, there was a flash of light. The sound of rock crumbling.

Artemis awoke some moments later. Her heart leapt into her throat the moment she saw the room.

The halls of the ancient ruins had collapsed. A dormant Eluvian lay in the corner, and a rune gathered in the center, glowing an eerie green.

Ari, mercifully, was standing on shaky feet. But someone new lay stretched over that rune, his breath shallow.

A packet of strong-smelling herbs were quickly thrust beneath the elf’s nose.

“On your feet, Inquisitor Lavellan.” Artemis clasped the hunter’s arm, yanking him upward. “I take it Leliana received our letter? Did she send you here?”

To call this warrior a man seemed a disservice to the notion. He was a fresh-faced boy, his eyes clear and his smile easy. Had she not seen it for herself at Skyhold, the notion that he carried the weight of the anchor on his hand would have seemed unthinkable.

But it was there. Shimmering green and…swimming?

“What’s it doing?” Artemis growled, eyes widening as the design slithered over his skin.

“Step back.” Arianna slipped her hand around her dagger’s hilt. She did not care who this man was, if he was a threat she would see it ended.

Hanon scowled for a moment, a chuckle escaping his lips as he waved the shimmering green anchor. Though he tried, the man did a terrible job extinguishing it–if that was what he was trying to do with that insane dance.

“I mean no harm!” Hanon yelled out, moving his hand back and forth, trying to control the unmanageable, “I was looking for the two of you, actually.”

“For what purpose? Is there news? Has Leliana heard anything about a cure?” Arianna still held on to the dagger at her side, “What reason do you have for finding us?”

Hanon shrugged for a moment, hand smoothing through his hair in an awkward motion, “I thought I could help. Or at least try to, though-”

The man paused, scowling as he hit his head a few times, “Ugh! Don’t you ever stop talking?!”

“Does who stop talking?” Arianna gripped on to her second dagger stepping between the man and Artemis, “Are you talking to us?”

“Oh Creator’s, no.” Hanon chuckled, a blush playing upon the young man’s cheeks, “It’s these voices in my head. Well, Mythal’s voices. Or something. You know I’m still not exactly sure how all this works. I’d ask my elven expert, but he left. As did my expert on the weird–everyone else knows him as Hawke. Maybe I should look into why people keep leaving-”

“Inquisitor!” Arianna snapped, calling the young man out of the rant he seemed so intent on finishing, “Please.”

“Right.” Hanon replied, smiling to the woman, “The voices in my head tell me that this is a trap set by the ancient elves and that we all need to perform a rite to open the portal again.”

“And what is this rite?”

The boy’s face turned as red as blighted lyrium. “We–Err…we need to…uhm…have sex.”

“Are you serious?” Artemis snarled at the boy. “Inquisitor, if this is some disgusting attempt to get the two of us into bed with you, I’ll cut off what hangs between your legs and let you bleed out on the stone.”

Hanon’s eyes blew wide, hastily backing away from the Wild Warden, “Please don’t cut off my…”

The man blushed harder, he couldn’t even say it.

“You’re serious.” Arianna blinked, loosening the grip on her dagger for a moment, “Maker’s breath. You’re actually serious?”

“I’m afraid so.” the man stammered before realizing himself, “I mean…I’m not afraid. Well, I’m a little afraid since Warden Tabris threatened to cut my thing off. Not afraid in a bad way though, I mean…I’ve never…and you two are… You’re…Creators.”


	2. Chapter 2

Artemis rolled her eyes at the boy, before casting an amused smirk toward her dear friend.

“I feel this has happened far too many times in those books written about our tales.” She remarked, her tone dry as desert sand.

She could scarcely summon the energy to be surprised by such a thing. It was the hardly the first awkward sex rite she’d found herself privy to. To think, she’d been grateful a decade before, when Arianna’s husband had taken on the difficulties of surviving the archdemon. No doubt Alistair would have plenty to say about this matter, once they returned to Denerim.

Still, at least she was with her dearest friend. Together until the end, it seemed.

And how unusually lovely she seemed, as the rune glowed. No, to call such a thing unusual was not correct. Arianna was radiant. Poised. Refined as polished gold. Elegant as a masterpiece painting.

But such items were made to be viewed, not touched. And for the first time…Artemis wished to lay her hands upon her dear friend.

It started with a kiss. A simple joining of lips, soft and supple as warmed butter. A tangle of teeth and tongues that held the same fierce intensity–the same dedication–as their battle of blades and wits, so many years before. Back when they had been frightened young women, dancing on the knife’s edge of the earth’s horrors. Eager to supplement their knowledge with gains from the wilds.

But this time, there was no hierarchy. No clear title of teacher and pupil. Artemis was not there to train Ari in the art of war, and Ari not present to train Artemis in the art of wits.

Instead, they met as equals. Primal motions, meeting the higher-minder arts. Neither standing above the other. Both potent, both deadly, in their application.

And even in a single kiss, it showed. Artemis was all raw instinct, uninhibited in her motions–whereas Ari played with opportunity, with strategy, her enthusiasm tempered by patience and cunning. The blunt force of a hammer, meeting the swift cuts of a rapier.

But even still, there was a serpent present. And the rune wished them to pay mind to the snake in their midst, Artemis soon realized, as her fists clenched over open air. Scalded, by the press of her fingers along Arianna’s breasts.

Unwinding her leathers, and shucking away cloth, was a simple matter. Artemis had long since traded the short-sleeved tunic and jerkin, the green skirts and calf-high boots she’d procured from the Dalish, for a sleeveless number, and breeches. Thighs now covered, but the lean, supple muscle still evident.

The shirt was the first piece of material to strike the moss-covered stone. Sun-warmed skin greeted the hunter’s eyes. She was built as the women of his clan so often were. Sturdy, with tone built from years of carrying a bow, and darting from tree to tree. But her skin did not bear the marks of mere claws, and teeth, from prey. Hers bore the faint lines of knives, and arrows. Of deepstalker venom, and dragon’s breath. Most had long since healed, but the imprint remained. A rich tapestry of her history. So very different from the simple rabbit-chasers, and wolf-slayers, that had inhabited Clan Lavellan.

Gauntlets soon followed, along with leathered boots. And finally, her breeches, green as the stems of elfroot. The moment the button unclasped, and the rasp of a zipper caught his ears, Hanon was treated to the sight of flared hips. She was fuller, rounder than the women of his clan. The flesh of her hips flared, generous. Not the slim, square carvings of the girls of his clan, fresh on the brink of womanhood. Artemis Tabris had known her femininity for far longer than any of those girls. Had watched her bones and belly expand, as she brought a child into the world. Had bourne a long, horizontal slash beneath her navel, as her son clawed his way into the realm of the living. Had watched her flesh tighten, and be cut anew, as that wretched song forced her back into battle.

Silken, pale gold tumbled over her shoulders. Hanging low to her belly, like streams of arbor blessing, as Artemis marched forward. As she spared a smile toward her friend. The friend that had shared her body with only one man before, in her life. She was all too willing to fight this battle in her place, to play her champion once more, for as long as she needed.

Artemis bade the Inquisitor to lie back on one of their spare bedrolls. Straddled Hanon’s hips in a fluid motion, and tossed gold-seared platinum over her shoulders.

The boy was treated to the marvelous sight of her breasts, high and firm, despite the toll motherhood had taken upon her body. More generous than the pert, slim peaks hidden beneath the vests of the women of his clan. As round and smooth as fresh-plucked peaches, tawny caps stiff beneath his gaze.

Something wet trickled from her thighs, as Hanon stared at her. A slick spill of moisture, that seeped over his belly, and down the carved lining of his hip.

If Artemis felt any shame over such a display, she did not show it. Modesty had never been her strongest virtue. Her boldness, however, was apparent, as she moved downward, and cupped his face, catching his lips with her own.

There was no question in Hanon’s mind, that this woman was a unique hunter. She tasted of wild berries, and cinnamon bark. Like fresh sprigs of mint, and the faint copper of blood.

Not hers. His.

She’d bitten him, at some point. Strong lips giving way to the harsh snap of teeth, drawing his plush skin into her grasp, and bearing down. Harsh, but not cruel. Enough to draw blood, but only a speckle. A quick droplet, to remind him that she was in charge. That she was the dominant soul in the pack, save perhaps, for her queen. But without Arianna’s presence, Artemis was the alpha, the leader. The stronger warrior.

And Hanon would be foolish to challenge her. She would eat him alive, if she so pleased. And he would do well to know it.

However…that was no promise that he would acquiesce.

While the boy on the bedroll struggled to regain his senses, the queen looked to her friend as she straddled the young man’s body. Had she always been so lovely? How had Arianna missed the delicate flow of those golden locks among her generous hips all these years?

No, she would not abandon her friend to uncaring magic. If they were complete this rite, they would so together. They would see this insanity as they met all trials in their lives… together. For the queen would give anything for her dear friend. She’d give her life, she’d give her body, she’d give the innocence of her husband to save Artemis’s own.

While Warden Tabris was clothed for for lean, bruising strikes, the queen carried no such thing . Even if battle might call them in the mist of the night, the queen was never without grace. Never without her poise. Graceful fingers pulled slowly at the leather blue corset enshrouding her chest, pushing those ample weights to their full.

The pristine leathers fell to the floor in a heap, revealing delicate silk. Unlike the females of Hanon’s clan, the undergarments of the Queen seemed straight out of a fantasy of his own making. They were hand crafted in Val Royeaux. They boasted straps, lace, and came in the most wonderful shade of cobalt.

Delicately, Ari placed her boot upon a nearby fallen rock, unbuckling the first strap of her undergarments. The thing snapped back upon her pale skin, but the queen never budged–never even flinched. Never took her emerald eyes away from the tanned loveliness of Artemis’s form.

Hanon seemed to notice the harsh snap, looking up from Artemis as he placed his hands upon those ample weights. Still, the queen paid him no mind. Instead, she removed the last bit of the court she had taken with her, the golden pin from her hair. Letting the strands fall from their place of honor atop her head, and settling against the small of her back. No longer was she the young woman sporting those sassy pigtails. This was a woman of time, a woman of a court where such things did not belong.

And yet, as traditional as Arianna appeared to be in her poise and delicacy… Artemis knew the woman better. She knew the tiny streak of rebellion the queen still held after all these years. She was, after all the first queen to bring an elf into court. She married a royal bastard; she’d stolen her throne from it’s rightful ruler.

When the last piece of that lace hit the floor, the cat crawled on to the bedroll, paying no mind to the snake who invaded their sanctuary. Instead she set upon tending to Artemis, the beautiful woman who seemed as soft as a lush field of grass, warming under the rays of the sun.

The queen was supple, graceful in her curves, and yet more muscled than any mere monarch should be. Hanon reached out to her, placing one hand on the breast of Warden Tabris, and the other hand on the breast of the queen, encouraging her to join in–his enthusiasm clear.

But again, the queen paid no mind to the man before her. A certain grace followed her hands, as they came to cup the cheeks of her dear friend, taking Artemis’ face into the her hands, and holding the woman. As tenderly as she’d held Ferelden in her palms.

Their eyes linked, jewels upon forest. Two elements that seemed so different…and yet, in this moment, the Maker himself could not tear these apart. Those elegant lips met with the ranger’s once more, moving with supple care and utter tenderness, despite the circumstances that surrounded them.

Their lips parted, though Arianna placed one last kiss upon Artemis’s forehead. A silent promise that while Artemis was her champion, her protector, Arianna would never allow her friend enter this–or any battle–alone.

Hanon almost let out moan below them, as he watched their lips meet. Creators, he was hard as a rock, and Warden Tabris was still poised over him, ready to strike. In truth, the Inquisitor had very little idea of what to do next. His hands fumbled, trying to tend to the women above him, but with each passing moment his ministrations only seemed to make the matters more… awkward. Not the particular mood he wished to ignite.

But the queen was already ahead of him. While Artemis took no time slipping over his cock, Arianna’s deft fingers met Artemis’ wet slit, parting those delicate lips and smoothing over her clit. She kissed her friend yet again, her lips never once abandoning their post.

Artemis’s breath hitched in her throat, as her inner walls clasped snug upon Hanon’s length. The boy was large, certainly. The thickness of him quick to tease the hidden sensitivities of her slick core. A suitable mount, as she rode out her passions.

But that tight, clenching response was not for the boy below her. Not for the play of his hand along her breast. No, it was for the woman beside her. Fair-faced and lovely, with lips as soft and pink as hibiscus flowers. Tresses the color of rubies. Skin painted ivory.

A snarl marred her face, as the blunt head of Hanon’s cock twitched against a particularly pleasurable spot. Hot sparks of pleasure following in its wake, as Ari’s fingers teased her. Clever, deft, and certain. Like the woman herself.

Her moans melted into the queen’s mouth, as she quickened her pace. As slender fingers touched inside, matching the strokes of the young hunter’s cock. It was not his hand, rough and awkward upon her breast, that drove her toward completion. It was Arianna’s, toying with the coppery rise of a nipple, playing along the dark pink of her sex, that made her shudder. Ripple. And drown her wail in the space of the queen’s mouth, as hot contractions raced through the slick tunnel of her womanhood, crashing down upon Hanon’s cock.

The boy was quick to finish inside her. Hardly unexpected. But Artemis could care less, as those cunning fingers worked upon her, guiding her to new peaks of pleasure, and bidding her to come back down, as her senses were sundered.

Some part of her recognized that the boy had slipped out of her. Softened, desperate to catch his breath. There was still Arianna to satisfy, after all.

And in that moment, Artemis realized that she was an utter fool. A complete imbecile, for sneaking Arianna into the woods and training her.. Empowering her to become a true warrior–capable in her own right without the threat of legions behind her words–had been a joy.

But what a fool she had been, for leaving it at that. Had she any mind, she would have swept the young maiden Arianna had been right off her feet, and over her shoulder. Carried her into the woods like the beast so many believed her to be, and ravished her in a clearing. She should have taken the girl beneath the trees, watched shadows dance upon her skin through the canopy of leaves, and shown her a world of pleasure she would have never known to have existed, locked away in that pretty castle.

But there was still time.


	3. Chapter 3

Artemis’s fingers flew to Hanon’s throat, a growl sounding low in his ear. Warning him not to challenge her. To leave her be, as she attended to the one she loved.

The leader of the pack always dined first, after all.

The ranger’s fingers found Arianna’s neck as well, but they were gentle. Soothing, as she tipped the shorter woman up into another kiss. Smoothed her hands low over the rich field of soft skin and elegant curves, capturing the queen in her grasp. Lifting her high, until she was tossed over the elf’s shoulder. Warden Tabris’ head turned–sharp teeth glancing over the queen’s buttock–before she set off.

Arianna was laid down in a quiet corner of the room. Far enough that Hanon could not reach, though he could certainly watch.

And Artemis silenced any attempts he might have made to join them with a fierce snarl. Another warning that he was not to intrude.

But with the queen, the champion was gentle. Slowly, she bent her face over her own, nuzzling her forehead to hers, before allowing their mouths to meet once more. Arianna tasted of fine wine and rich meals. Of sweet words, and clever lies.

She would need no such weapons in this moment. Not with Artemis.

Golden hair spread along ivory skin, like spilled champagne over marble tile. Artemis worked her way down the length of the queen’s body. Teasing the column of her throat. Cupping the rounded treasures of her breasts, and bending to draw a nipple into her mouth. Teeth skimming the pink rise. Sharp, but not harsh.

Green eyes blazed like a forest fire, as Artemis continued her trail. She drew her tongue between the valley of her breasts, painted her friend’s belly with long strokes and open-mouthed kisses. Until finally, she spread her thighs wide, and buried her face in flame-colored curls.

The scent of her went right to Artemis’s head. Something refined, floral, perfumed. Feminine, with a heady undercurrent of spice. Of something hot and peppery, something that lingered in her lungs every time she drew in a new breath.

Artemis ran the flat of her tongue over the seam of Arianna’s sex, a low moan edged in the back of her throat, as she tasted the garnish of the queen’s arousal. Mere trimmings, when she desired a full course meal.

Tabris had never been known for her patience. And though she took care to be gentle, she was not unpressured in her action. Not prone to exhibit temperance, as she licked open the split in her queen’s thighs. Laved her tongue along the saturated layers of her sex, drinking in the sweet nectar of her body.

But it did little to satisfy her hunger. Artemis was a selfish woman, and would not be satisfied until she had the full of her supper.

And so, Arianna watched her friend’s fingers clasp over her knees, opening her further. That strong, wicked tongue followed the spill of moisture. Dunked the long, pink line fully inside, and tasted her.

Arianna was liquid ambrosia, and the sweet little moan she allowed…like a choir of seraphims.

That powerful tongue drove inside the queen, time and again, fucking her in earnest. But Artemis was not so selfish as to neglect the full of her friend’s pleasure.

One her hands, roughened by years of bow work, skimmed up the length of her thigh. Hunted through the nest of fiery curls, until she could flatten her thumb over the hard nub of her clitoris, swiping it back and forth in a slow, persistent rhythm.

Hanon still had to take his pleasure inside of Arianna, in order for her friend to survive. But Artemis would be damned if he was allowed to taste her first.

In that moment–somewhere in the symphony of moans Artemis elicited from the queen’s lips–a realization dawned upon Arianna.

In their years as friends, jokes had been made. Alistair, Zevran, Artemis’s son…they had no short supply of amused observers commenting on the nature of their relationship. Stories written by libidinous authors–fables told of sort of love that never truly was. Before this moment, they had yet to truly taste one another. But now, now she knew.

Because if they had, she would have never allowed Artemis one single moment out of her bed.

No, she could not share this bliss with another. She could not comprehend that lovely mouth of Artemis’ in any other action but worshipping upon Arianna’s skin. Each stroke of the woman’s tongue invoked a deeper thrill than standing before her court. Each tiny ministration fierce. Bold. Fiery. Just as Artemis was.

A graceful hand of the queen’s reached downward, lacing her fingers in the golden spill of Artemis’s hair. But this was no sign of domination–not even a soft urging of movement–only a sign that she wished to be closer. To reach out and consume every fiber that was Artemis. 

Arianna felt as if each bead of sweat upon her skin was consumed with a holy fire. Her heart beat faster, cursing her with the thought of every wasted moment, every second not spent with their limbs intertwined.

The now dusty pearls on her neck pushed back, laying upon her pale skin as the queen sat up on her elbows, watching in sighing wonder at Artemis below her. She gasped, she moaned, she purred as easily as any cat could. Her body gave in to the moment, racked with the tremors of bliss. Her elbows fell, her body falling upon the ground below, and ripping a perfect symphony of heaven from her royal lips.

Though still in the afterglow of pleasure, the queen did not stay upon that floor for long. How could she, when Artemis was still so close? The hands of the queen could not be still, not when so much of Artemis was left untouched.

Arianna took to her roguish roots, moving deftly upon her woman. The tremors of her last quake had yet to settle, before candied lips called out to Artemis once more. Bronzed skin once again melding with ivory so absolutely, so unconditionally.

And for a moment, the two simply lay together. Crimson and golden and perfect as the flag of Ferelden itself. 

But those eager lips soon trailed low. Once again taking those lovely, round breasts to her hands and lips. Her mouth parted, taking one perfect nipple inside. She did not bite, she did not tease, instead she coaxed, she enticed.

Again, she lavished her friend’s breasts. Took those weights into her palms, and worshiped upon the altar of her love. Lower, she trailed. Nothing but that warm smile–granted only for Artemis–upon her lips.

Slyly, Hanon tiptoed toward their bodies… surely this was his cue wasn’t it? The queen was placing her hips in the air.

Hearing the noise, the queen silenced the growl of Artemis’s lips with a kiss of her own, leaning up from her breasts with a soothing seal over her throat.

“It’s alright.” Arianna nodded, kissing Artemis’s throat yet again. Soothing her friend with nothing more than a touch, “I will allow it.”

Her lips trailed lower on that perfectly bronze body, lavishing each space with her lips. The crook of her friend’s full hips. The scar where her child was born. The small, knotted line Artemis held from the Blight. Each a story. Each embedded in the queen’s own history. Each was a moment spent together.

And when she came upon that bare slit, a smile crossed the queen’s lips… this would be one more memory. She opened Artemis, gently as she would open a book. Gracefully, her fingers trailed over her friend’s legs. All the poise she might have used to clasp a glass of wine. She felt the man position himself behind her, sliding in.

She moaned, but it was not for Hanon. No, it was for that first true scent of Artemis. Pine. Spices. And yet…all the sweetness of a wild blueberry, dwelling deep within the forest. The taste was better than an aged wine presented to her from Tevinter. A ruling finger slipped inside of Artemis, pushing away every last memory of that fumbling boy and replacing it with the exquisite perfection of the queen’s deft hands.

Hanon pushed, every last part of him in the queen. Each stroke harder than his last, but she did not seem to care. No, not with Artemis in her arms. On her lips. On her body. It wasn’t long before Hanon spent himself yet again, fulfilling the ancient elves’ idea of a trap.

While he finished, the queen was not unkind. She allowed the boy to stay within her as her lips met with Artemis’s slit, yet again.

The earth shook beneath the elf, as the queen moved inside her. All the world was slick abandon. White at the edge of her vision, stained red by silken tresses, and satin lips. And when she returned to the surface of the floor, she saw Arianna smiling upward, eyes meeting her own. Green upon green.

And Hanon.

It was a marvel that Arianna could be so soft, while remaining firm inside. Artemis was not gifted with such talent. Her emotions so often matched her sleeves, and it was no surprise to any that Warden Tabris gifted the boy with a wolf’s snarl, gathering Arianna into her lap and sheltering her from his gaze. Her eyes were flinty, fierce. Her arms an iron brace, and her hackles risen high.

But when the boy fetched his clothes, and stepped through the newly glowing Eluvian, Artemis softened once more. Caught that soft, kiss-swollen mouth against her own, and met Arianna in another impassioned kiss.

It would be some time before they found themselves at Skyhold.


End file.
